I must have been about eight years old, maybe even less, when my parents bought Tomb Raider for my PlayStation. In any case, I was below the recommended age and it definitely showed, seeing as my mother and sister ended up passing most of the game for me, my only real achievement being defeating the Giant Atlantian entirely on my own. Still, that didn't stop me from admiring the badarse heroine and attempting to manoeuvre and climb obstacles like her, much to the displeasure of any adults who might have witnessed those fiascos.

Nowadays, I am happy with being a simple tourist, but I still receive the occasional flattering comparison to the famed archaeologist. It must be the combination of brown shorts and green tops I love so much, topped with a ponytail or a plait. Lara did not seem too good at adapting to the weather conditions in the first few games, however, so I've taken the liberty of adding another layer of clothing over my tank top - she might not have any trouble with arthritis, but I will definitely suffer in my old age! As for accessories, I doubt Miss Croft would like anything shiny to attract unwanted attention to her, or get in her way whilst she's trying to escape threats, be they human or mythological. A simple necklace on a string and a backpack will suffice, and I'm certain she would not say no to a pair of gloves and a hat, now that the weather is quintessentially autumnal.

So, really, the only difference between us is the fact that I would pet the animals attacking her, rather than pulling any firearms out. Which is probably why I should not try following in her footsteps.

My auburn hair says "Ñoldor" ("Deep Elves"), but my brown-and-green outfit says "Nandor" ("Wood-elves"). I think that, on this one occasion, I will side with a certain non-canonical Mirkwood elf of flaming red hair from the film adaptations of The Hobbit.

The dress you see, a gift from my beloved Gabriella, was simply begging for a waist belt, and those who like showing some leg can feel free to undo a few buttons from the bottom, as I have. However, it also looks good when worn entirely by itself (as the gorgeous Mirella demonstrates here). In the chilly autumn days, I would add a faux leather jacket (black, to match the shoes) and a pair of brown tights to keep my legs from getting chilly.

The necklace I'm wearing is also a gift - one from the mermaids inhabiting the faraway Caribbean Islands. I've yet to see their tropical forests, so unlike the ones I'm used to here, but their hitherto unfamiliar energy still lingers within these stones. One of them, tiger's eye, is a strong stone for protection. It is known to enhance courage and physical strength, as well as to promote balance. As for lava rock, the other type, it is essentially the result of an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. Logic and paradoxes aside, the strength of earth and the raw passion of fire make for one fine amulet of strength and courage. All in all, a necklace fit for wearing into battle, and helpful during times of drastic change in life.

With all this in mind, the only thing left for you to do is get your hair out of the way, grab your bow and arrows, and venture out in search of danger and adventure. Mayhaps you will chance upon a just king in need of a champion, or a valiant shieldmaiden to match your skill in battle. Regardless of what you might come across on your way, always carry with yourself the words of J. R. R. Tolkien: Not all those who wander are lost.

This summer has blessed our little garden with an unseen before amount of lavender, which now adorns my room with the scent of sweet dreams. Rivaling it is only the petrichor outside - the result of an increasing amount of thunderstorms. Autumn is not far now, and you can feel it everywhere, be it the return of pumpkin spice latte advertisements in the cities, or the gossamer strings of gold embellishing the forests. Now, as our furry neighbours prepare to take out their winter coats once more, and mountain peaks put on their caps of snow, I count down the days before my final breath of summer arrives.

Ten. Nine. Eight...

- Comparing tans with friends.

- And assuring them that their sunburned cheeks are actually adorable.

- Overhearing funny stories in the public transport.

- Those summer hits that only last a month, but without which it just wouldn't be the same.

- Post-festival exhaustion (and satisfaction).

- Knowing that you will inevitably run into people you never get to see, but want to.

- Eagerly awaiting something - be it a road trip, a new release from your favourite artist, the new season of a TV series, the start of university, a tattoo, love.

In darkest wings across a pitch-black skyDeath will come for me, but not tonight.

After prepping us up with a Lunar Prelude, it is time for Delain to release their fifth studio album in a decade: Moonbathers. And it is everything we expected. By "we" I mean long-term fans, of course; new introductions to their sound sometimes find them either 'too metal' or 'too pop' to like straight away, but that is precisely where the peculiarity of Delain's music lies - in their distinctive mix of pop, rock, and symphonic metal. Each of their albums has some sort of theme running through it and none of them are quite alike.

In Moonbathers, they've opted for a production similar to that of their last album (read more here), yet, musically, it comes closer to their April Rain days. There is also something reminiscent of Nightwish in the sound, though one might struggle to put one's finger on precisely what it is. Either way, one thing you will notice Moonbathers is that nothing sounds 'forced' - neither too hard nor too soft, but a comfortable balance of heavy riffs and ethereal orchestration. To add to this, their vocalist Charlotte Wessels keeps improving with each consecutive album, reaching a new height in this one. One thing is for certain: you are in for something much more varied than you're used to.

Lyric-wise, Moonbathers is, again, more like The Human Contradiction - the band have long abandoned the elements of fantasy in Lucidity, and they now paint a realistic and somewhat disheartening picture of human nature. Nevertheless, being aware of their influence as songwriters, Charlotte and Martijn are careful not to glorify negativity and they search for the silver lining in everything - something for which the moon has proven to be an excellent metaphor (which Charlotte talks about here).

The album opens up with Hands of Gold, a duet between Charlotte and Alissa White-Gluz of Arch Enemy - the contrast between their voices is striking, and it works just as well as it did in The Tragedy of the Commons. Following it is The Glory and the Scum, which manages to showcase not only Charlotte's abilities as a singer, but also Timo and Merel's as guitarists. After a powerful track like that, it's time for the catchy Suckerpunch and The Hurricane to give us a breather with a simpler, but no less pleasant concept. Both seem to blend naturally into each other, as the pace gradually slows down to a morbidly sweet ballad: Chrysalis - The Last Breath. Do not be enticed by the beauty of Charlotte's voice, however, for the dynamic Fire With Fire comes in entirely unannounced and teeming with energy. Following it, Pendulum shows no signs of slowing down either. You might get a hint of Where Is the Blood? in it as well. Next in line is Danse Macabre, a feast for the ears for those who fell in love with Delain because of their symphonic and gothic elements. As if their repertoire was not varied enough already, the band have decided to take a huge risk and cover Queen's very Scandal. The result is a surprisingly good piece which in no way struggles to overthrow the legendary original, but merely offers a fresher and equally synth-pop perspective on it. The penultimate track Turn the Lights Out, already familiar to those who have listened to their EP, has us with our heads in the sky from Charlotte's singing, with only the drums and guitars keeping our feet on the ground. Finally, The Monarch comes and gently wakes us from our trance - a fitting outro for an album which commands one's attention for each second of its songs.

Moonbathers will be reased on the 26th of August. To make 2016 even more amazing, Delain are having their 10 Year Anniversary bash in Amsterdam on the 10th of December, and me and mi amore will be attending the show. As an admirer of both their art and what they present to the world as people, I cannot contain my joy from all of their amazing releases this year and I hope that the path they walk on continues to lead them up.

Merrigan is a mysterious vision you catch only a glimpse of from the corner of your eye, but is no longer there if you look twice. She is the light caress on your shoulder you end up convincing yourself was just the wind. She is both the strange, benevolent being that leads you out of the woods at night, and the reason you were lost in the first place. With a voice as sweet as honey and soft, dreamy acoustics, performed almost entirely by herself, she sings the magical world of our childhoods into existence in her first ever EP The Changeling. Have you, perchance, wanted to hear the ballad sung by Dennain The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss? Merrigan does it absolute justice with Song of Seven Sorrows. Or can you recognise in anyone you know the sylvan soul of a fairy child, of which she sings in The Changeling? Even a seemingly innocent song about autumn carries within itself the sadness and the hope we see in Shelley's Ode to the West Wind - for, what is autumn, but a beautiful death, followed by a rebirth? I was glad to see that she'd also included an old love of mine - The Troll and the Flower - which lovers of Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tales will surely appreciate. Finally, the album ends with my ultimate favourite Viking ballad Sagan om Tveskägg (Tveskaegg's Story), which tells of the battle between a mighty warrior and a fearsome she-dragon... though, if you search carefully through Merrigan's YouTube channel, you will find a slightly different truth to that which the Swedish lyrics suggest. Too long did I wait to make this purchase after falling in love with her full-length album Gravedigger's Faire, and I am happy to see (rather, hear) how much Merrigan's music has improved in The Changeling. The lyrics are the same fantastic tales she has always woven from her own heart, but the sound is richer and purer. Overall, this album makes me extremely happy and its ethereal nature is enough to put anyone's mind at ease. I will gladly continue to follow this wonderful child of the forest's progresses as a musician.Genre: folk, alternative folk;Recommended if you like: Adrian von Ziegler, Erutan, Loreena McKennitt.

I have never been fond of fake flowers, but I am also careful about when and for what reason I pick real ones. You may rest assured that no daisies were harmed in the making of this outfit post. Besides, neither humans nor the fae folk would have appreciated my making wreaths out of the flora of Sofia University's Botanical Gardens.

Clearly, I am no pioneer in choosing to wear white in the summer, but this was a personal challenge for me, as this dress is one of the few white items in my wardrobe. I find that, though it welcomes any colour or amount of accessories, it needs very little, for it stands out on its own. I like to complement it with light tones, such as the silver and baby pink of my crystal necklace. Magically, silver is a relatively neutral metal. Rose quartz, on the other hand, is the prime stone of love, both romantic and platonic, kindness, and emotional healing. Carry a heart-shaped rose quartz with you to attract love. If you feel distressed and need to be calmed or reassured, give it a squeeze for as long as you need to.

As for the shoes, they were plain white flats, the like of which you can find in any shop, but you might know by now that I'd much prefer to go without, especially if there is lush green grass to walk on. Do not go wandering on the asphalt barefoot, though, or you risk your feet getting scorched.

Lastly, for a little touch of magic, add some glitter or shimmer to your make-up and you are ready for Queen Titania herself to grant you an audience. Well, maybe not, but you are guaranteed to turn a few heads as you pass.

Four in the afternoon. The bus going from the old town of Nessebar to Ravda. A very loud group of teenagers at the back. At the front, sitting to my left, an elderly man with an expression of scorn. The ruckus from the back gets louder and their laughter drowns out the disapproving sighs and mumbles of the other passengers. The man grunts and I brace myself for the almost inevitable soliloquy about the horrible youth of our times and the decline of society. He then breathes in... out and, without turning to anyone in particular, whispers "Even children are forcing their laughter now."

She was a diamond, or at least she shone like one under the fluorescent lights of the club, and she never danced alone. We could hear running up the stairs at five in the morning with someone, giggling, occasionally uttering words in Russian in a low, husky voice; then we'd hear her scrambling for her keys in her handbag - the apartment next to yours. We weren't quite sure how her skin was so bronzed, when she was always chasing moonlight instead of the sun's rays. But sometimes we would catch a glimpse of her sitting on the balcony, shaking a cocktail glass in her left hand and gazing at the sea with what seemed to be longing. That is the only time when we noticed the dirt under her fingernails, and that one of her teeth was chipped from opening beer bottles, But we knew that as soon as the sun went down nobody else would either.

It's the little things that give people away.

If I had to pick the best "French" thing for me, I would choose Mireille and my Peugeot 205. The difference is that I'll probably still be listening to Mireille in the afterlife, but my Peugeot is about to be picked up for scrap. That's the way it is! Optimists inclined towards the classical, such as myself, would say "Sic transit gloria mundi", but deep inside they'll be thinking of the phrase "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened."

Service is always slow in crowded restaurants, but drinks and evening breezes make the wait bearable. Besides, it is hard to be frustrated when national folk songs are playing and a smiling family is doing a horo dance around the tables Then everything stops - music, dance, eating. The only light remaining outlines the silhouettes of a woman with her hands on her face and a man down on one knee. We can't hear what is being said, but soon enough those near them erupt in cries of joy and clapping. The two embrace and, eventually, disappear behind the crowd standing up to congratulate the newly engaged.

"The sun takes a long time to go down." says mi amore whilst fiddling with the settings on his camera. I am circling around in search of interesting shells and gifts from the sea - a futile quest, given how late it is. In my search, I accidentally splash a bit of water at my love and he recoils in pretend indignation. I take this as a sign to repeat the action, consciously this time, and he responds by leaving our electronics on the nearest sunbed and kicking a wave back at me. We start attacking each other, sinking further into the sea until the water is waist-high and what's left above it is bathed in the full moon's honey glow. He's holding me in his arms now, spinning me around and around. I'm laughing, feeling like I'm flying a mile above the ground and clinging onto him as if he is the only thing keeping me from falling.